


Mock Executions and Little Deaths

by justacookieofacumberbatch (buffyholic)



Series: Don Armie & his Sweet Tea [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, M/M, Organized Crime, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 01:31:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14462217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffyholic/pseuds/justacookieofacumberbatch
Summary: Mob boss Armie is trying to concentrate, but there are these white swim trunks.





	Mock Executions and Little Deaths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MonikaKrasnorada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonikaKrasnorada/gifts), [shamelessmash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamelessmash/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by [this Tumblr post](https://simpi2274.tumblr.com/post/172487544369/don-armie-his-sweet-tea-charmie-au-ok) and Oliver's clingy red swim trunks from the morning after scene (you know what I'm talking about).
> 
> Dedicated to monikakrasnorada and shamelessmash for getting me into this fandom in the first place.

“He was there for four hours, Mr. Hammer.”

Armie pinched the bridge of his nose. “So you’ve mentioned. Several times. Over the past”--he shook his watch from the cuff of his suit--“forty-five minutes.”

“And yet it doesn’t seem to have registered.”

Armie squinted at the bulging vein scraggling over his associate’s bald head. Good to know he wasn’t the only one with a headache. He sat back in his chair--slumped, really--steepling his fingers as he crossed his ankle over his knee.

“That time frame is good for us.” He paused as his eyes caught Timmy ambling towards the swimming pool, grey sweatpants and black t-shirt, bare feet and Ray-Bans. “If he’d talked, they would have let him out sooner.”

“That’s no guarantee.”

Timmy tossed the Ray-Bans on a lounge chair, stripped off the shirt, and stepped out of the sweatpants, and Armie had to suppress a gasp. He was wearing the white trunks.

“They could have detained him to keep up appearances. They could be planning a sting right now.”

Armie only half listened, propping his chin on his knuckles as Timmy sprinted to the edge of the pool and took a flying leap into it. Water splashed on the deck. The little shit.

Armie sat forward, focus back on the conversation at hand. “All the more reason to keep him alive.”

“Bullshit. You have to set an example…”

 _Blah blah blah. All the same shit._ He let the voice fade out as Timmy re-emerged from the pool like a Venus, vaulting himself up the ladder so water sprayed around him like gleaming confetti. Armie cursed himself for allowing the pool to be installed with the ladders perpendicular to his study, for if they hadn’t, he would have been treated to a full frontal view of Timmy in those shorts instead of from the side. And of course Timmy immediately turned and walked away, smoothing the hair from his forehead as he peered over his shoulder.

To a casual observer, it may have appeared that Timmy was simply gazing into the pool as he walked, but Armie knew better. He was taking a surreptitious glance towards Armie’s office, a little reassurance that his display was having the desired effect. He wanted to make sure Armie got a good look at just what happened when those trunks got good and wet, clingy and translucent.

***

Armie had bought them for Timmy just before the first pool party of the season. He’d been well aware of what would happen, but Timmy didn’t seem to take it into account before he splashed into the pool for the first time. Nor did he take notice when he emerged, sidling up and snacking on hors d'oeuvres without a care in the world.

Armie had sat on Timmy’s towel and clothes and watched until the moment the truth sank in, and the range of emotions crossing Timmy’s face as he’d realized his predicament, searched for his things, and found Armie smirking as he sat on them, had been incredible.

Timmy had spent most of the party after that standing with his hands awkwardly clasped in front of his groin.

Armie had spent most of the evening afterwards licking and biting Timmy through the trunks until every drop of water was replaced with Armie’s saliva and Timmy’s thighs and buttocks were covered with half-moon bruises.

***

Timmy walked to the edge of the diving board, toes curling over the edge as he bounced on his heels, staring at the water as if he were trying to calculate the precise way to dive in these conditions. Sunny and windless, lower 80s, just cool enough to raise goosebumps on a wet, nearly naked man. Enough that Timmy’s nipples could cut glass. Enough that the cool air against Timmy’s groin fought against his arousal, which was becoming apparent enough even through the struggle.

He wasn’t hard yet, not enough to tent the trunks, anyway. His cock was still stuck against his thigh, clingy fabric keeping it buoyant enough not to droop but providing enough pressure to keep it tucked against his body, though that wouldn’t last long.

Armie sat forward in his chair, rubbing the side of his index finger against his lower lip.

“Finally, he listens to me,” said Armie’s associate.

“Watch your tongue,” Armie bit.

Timmy dived into the water.

***

The second time Timmy had worn them was on vacation in Las Vegas. Armie had packed them in secret and lain them out on the bed while Timmy showered. The bright flush on his face was better than anything Armie could have imagined, and the erection he’d sported while changing into them was exquisite.

They’d walked down to the pool bar, ostensibly just to have a few drinks and let Armie ogle his trophy, but Armie had other plans in mind. Once Timmy was a little tipsy, Armie revealed his full gambit with a whisper in Timmy’s ears.

“We don’t go back to the room until you get a hotel key.”

Timmy had bitten his bottom lip, sliding over to Armie and shoving both hands in the pockets of Armie’s trunks, snatching their room key between two fingers and presenting it to Armie. “Easy.”

Armie had tutted, retrieving the key. “Someone else’s.”

“I don’t have to sleep with them, do I?”

Armie had plucked at Timmy’s lower lip with his thumb. “That’s up to you. Only if I get to wash their scent from you and replace it with my own.”

Timmy had trembled and swum away, returning twenty minutes later to plunk a key on the bartop in front of Armie.

Armie had considered it carefully. “Did you steal this, Artful Dodger?”

Timmy had mocked shock. “How could you think that?”

Armie guffawed. “Are you forgetting how we met?”

Timmy had turned around and propped his elbows on the bar, smiling and waving to someone across the pool. “Now what do you think?”

Armie had peered over his shoulder to see a fit woman, likely in her mid-40s, in a Burberry bikini. “You do always go for the rich ones, don’t you?”

Timmy had smiled a shit-eating grin, biting the tip of his tongue at the corner of his mouth. “I know how to work them.”

Armie had frowned at the key, tapping it against the bartop, considering. “And she doesn’t know about our little deal?”

Timmy had looked smug. The little shit. “Nope.”

And if it weren’t for that smug look, Armie may not have had his next idea. He’d smirked, tugging Timmy to him by the waist, murmuring in his ear, “Do you want me to fuck you tonight?”

The gasp of breath across Armie’s shoulder had almost made him shiver as Timmy nodded.

Armie had bitten Timmy’s earlobe. “Return the key.”

Timmy had groaned, a heady mixture of frustration and arousal that only came when he found something truly humiliating, and collapsed against Armie. “You bastard.”

Armie had kissed his temple and handed him the key. “You love it.”

***

Timmy floated on his back for several minutes as Armie tried to convince his associate that it was no longer Prohibition, and making an example of someone who may or may not have talked to the police before they even knew what may have been told would attract too much attention. Not to mention that if this joker went out and did it anyway, it would undermine Armie’s authority. So, here he was, stuck, while Timmy teased him through the window.

It was fucking torture.

Had he died? Was this hell?

“What you don’t seem to understand--” Armie started.

“No, what you don’t understand is…”

Armie tuned him out again, staring past him to the now empty pool, gaze darting until he found Timmy flopping onto a lounge chair, Ray-Bans back in place. He lolled his head on his left arm, elbow above his head, and let the other arm drape over his bent right knee.

He sat just like that for a moment, long enough for Armie to tune back into the conversation enough to know his feedback would be wasted at this point, and then his right hand slowly made the trek down his thigh. Armie sat back again, suppressing a grin as Timmy’s hand slid underneath the waistband of his trunks, perfectly aligned to give Armie the ideal profile view of the action.

The best little instigator anyone could ask for.

“I’m sorry.” Armie’s associate snapped his fingers, drawing Armie’s iresome focus. “Is there something more important behi—“

Armie slammed his hand onto the desk before his associate could look outside. “I don’t owe you my focus. The only reason I’ve let you talk this long is that you’re family and you’ve been here”—Armie looked him up and down, sneering—“a lot longer than I have.”

“You little—“

“Enough!” Armie huffed a breath, pushing back his hair. “I have something to take care of. Wait here.”

“But—“

Armie was already out the French doors, whipping the curtains closed behind him.

He stomped over to Timmy, who seemed blissfully unaware of what was coming for him. Still groping himself under the trunks. Still slumped on the lounge chair. Still resting his head on his arm, appearing for all intents and purposes to be watching his own hand move. 

The only sign he gave that he knew Armie was coming was an impish twist of his lips. That was, until Armie’s shadow eclipsed his face.

With a look of feigned surprise, Timmy lifted the Ray-Bans and propped them on his crown. “Oh, hello.”

Armie slipped his hands into his trousers pockets. “You know I was in a meeting.”

“Oh.” Timmy bit his bottom lip in a futile attempt to suppress a smile. “I hope I didn’t interrupt.”

Armie chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

Timmy stretched before folding his arms behind his head. “I know you do. But what are you gonna do about it?”

“Get in the cabana.”

Timmy threw his legs to one side of the lounger and stood in one swift move, ambling towards the gauzy, open curtains at the front of the cabana like a God-damned runway model. Armie followed. These moments were always tricky. Of course, his impulse was to punish--a good spanking if nothing else--but that would only serve to encourage the behavior.

Timmy pulled the sunglasses from his crown and set them on the bartop to one side of the cabana before walking to the center, facing the chiminea, arms loose and relaxed by his sides. Ready and waiting.

Tying Timmy up in their bedroom was certainly another viable option, making him wait there until Armie’s meeting was finished. Killing them both with anticipation. He had to admit, the thought of rigging Timmy up made Armie’s fingers tingle. It made the tension that had been building through every moment of that meeting dissipate. He’d use the white rope this time, leave the trunks on, let them drip on the bedclothes and make Timmy shiver in the air conditioning.

They always set up a Facetime call when Armie left the room during a scene, and Armie shivered at the thought of propping his phone on his knee under his desk, watching Timmy squirm or relax into his binds until Armie decided they’d both had enough torture. Maybe he’d show the feed to his associate, watch his reaction. Or more likely, he’d just tell Timmy that’s what he had done. Watch the flush suffuse Timmy’s face and chest. Watch his cock throb and leak. Take it into his mouth and taste the salt and chlorine.

Who was he kidding? If he took Timmy to their bedroom right now, they’d be fucking before they got through the door.

Armie slipped his suit coat from his shoulders, folding it vertically before draping it over a barstool. “Knees.”

As Armie undid his cuffs, Timmy dropped to one knee.

“I’m not coming down to you,” Armie scolded. “Pick a seat. Face the back.”

Timmy went for the closest option, an ottoman shoved against one side of the sofa, and kneeled facing the sofa. And he waited. He didn’t anticipate Armie’s next command, just did exactly what Armie said. _Fuck_. If he’d known this was in store for him today, he would have worn bigger trousers.

Armie sat on the sofa one seat over from the ottoman, legs wide, as he finished rolling his sleeves to his elbows. _Let him get a good look._

Armie focused his gaze on his sleeves, getting the cuffs just perfect. “What have I said about interfering with my business?”

Timmy swallowed, eyes quite obviously rapt on the bulge in Armie’s pants. “Don’t.”

Armie let a crooked smile flit across his face. “And you…”

“Did.”

God, he could play Armie like a fiddle. Incite him and then turn into the perfect little sub, so plaintive and obedient. So eager to repent and do his contrition.

Armie nodded, draping his arm over the back of the sofa. “Elbows now, please.”

Timmy did as asked, dropping onto his hands before slowly lowering himself, back perfectly straight, curls falling into his eyes. His left elbow was just a couple inches from Armie’s thigh, and Armie let them rub together as he leaned forward to ease the trunks down Timmy’s hips.

Timmy’s breath shuddered.

“There we go,” Armie cooed as he pressed the back of the elastic waistband against the backs of Timmy’s knees. “Perfect. Just the way I want you.”

Armie couldn’t help but take a moment to enjoy the view, knuckles grazing up the knobs of Timmy’s spine. One joint at a time. God, what a sight, chest expanding and contracting at a slow and even pace, head drooped, knees held together by the elastic in the swim trunks, though he could tell by the tension in Timmy’s legs that he wanted to spread them.

Armie stopped at the nape of Timmy’s neck, gripping it as he stood. He settled at Timmy’s side, just behind his ass, and waited. Waited until Timmy’s arms began to tremble in anticipation. Watched his toes curl and uncurl. Listened to small noises at the back of Timmy’s throat that he couldn’t quite suppress, though he knew he hadn’t been given permission to make noise yet.

And just when Timmy made the decision to say something, just when Armie noticed him shift to one elbow, ready to turn…

_Whack._

Armie’s palm hit square in the center of Timmy’s ass, a bit harder than he’d usually start with for a recreational spanking, but then, this was punishment, wasn’t it.

Armie drew in a sharp breath as he watch a red hand print form. “Count them out.”

“One,” Timmy huffed, rocking back.

Armie spanked Timmy in the same spot. _God, that sound._ “Begging is beneath you, don’t you think?”

Timmy shook his head. “Two.”

_Three. Four. Five. Six._

“What were you trying to accomplish, hmm?” _Seven._ “Think you can tease me like that and get away with it?”

“Eight.”

“You knew I had a meeting.” _Nine._ “He could have seen you.”

Timmy’s head curled under his shoulders, crown pressed to the sofa cushion, toes curling off the ottoman as Armie’s hand came down. “Ten.”

Armie took a moment to knead the fuchsia flesh, admire his handiwork. “I don’t think you’re sorry at all.”

Timmy hissed, glutes clenching as he rocked forward and then releasing as he relaxed against Armie’s hands, settling his cheek against the sofa cushion.

Armie sat as he gave Timmy’s ass another smack, lighter this time, though the sensitized skin would surely burn from it. “You would have been perfectly happy if he’d seen irrefutable proof that you’re circumcised.”

“Elev--”

Armie silenced him with a finger to the lips. “No more counting.”

Another light smack, just to watch the flesh move, and Armie’s cock was screaming, pulsing, throbbing, very upset to still be trapped in Armie’s trousers. There were few things more beautiful than Timmy’s buttocks turned red and purple with a good spanking, except perhaps when they were covered in teeth marks.

So, Armie sank his teeth into the swell of one buttock, sucking hard, chlorine and arousal a heady mixture in his nostrils, and reached between Timmy’s legs, cupping his balls, which were already tight to his body.

“Oh,” Armie sighed as he propped his chin on his fresh bite mark, wrapping his thumb and forefinger around the base of Timmy’s scrotum, tugging. “Having fun, I see. Apparently, I should have put you in the chastity belt first.”

Timmy shivered, moaning into the sofa cushion. 

Armie grinned. “We could try to put it on now.”

Timmy shook his head, groaning piteously, but Armie could feel Timmy’s cock throb through his grip on Timmy’s balls.

“God, you’re sick.” Armie chuckled, releasing Timmy’s scrotum. “I love you.” Armie stroked a soft hand up Timmy’s spine. “Sit up.”

Timmy sat back on his heels, eyes hooded, jaw drooping, hair disheveled, a bit of drool at one side of his mouth. His cock was hard as a steel rod and almost as bright red as his buttocks, a fat drop of precome slowly making its way down his frenulum.

Armie gathered it up on the tip of his finger and pressed it to Timmy’s tongue. Timmy let him, only giving the slightest resistance with his tongue as Armie smeared the precome and drew his finger out, catching on Timmy’s bottom lip. Only then did Timmy close his mouth and lick his lips.

Armie carded his fingers through Timmy’s hair. “You’re totally gone, aren’t you?”

Timmy hummed, pressing into Armie’s hand.

Armie’s heart swelled, so fond and proud, but it left him with a conundrum. He hadn’t expected Timmy to go under so quickly. He thought a little spanking would just be a tit for tat, get him back for teasing Armie by getting him aroused and making him wait. But, could he really go back to his meeting with Timmy like this? What if Timmy resurfaced without him?

Armie slid two fingers into Timmy’s mouth, stopping only when his third knuckle met teeth. Timmy closed his lips around them but didn’t suck. He knew not to do what he hadn’t been asked to. _The perfect little sub._

Could he follow through with his plans to make Timmy wait? Could Timmy take it?

Slowly, carefully, Armie pressed his fingertips against the back of Timmy’s tongue, not relenting until he gagged, and when he did, Timmy didn’t pull away. He didn’t even flinch. Armie immediately drew his fingers out and took Timmy’s cock into his mouth to repay the favor. His thighs trembled beneath Armie’s face as he groaned, fighting his body’s reflex to thrust, but he quickly relaxed and went quiet except for shuddering breaths.

That clinched it. He was too far gone to wait.

Armie lifted his mouth from Timmy’s cock and kissed the top of each thigh. “Such a good boy,” he murmured against Timmy’s skin, kissing up his torso to his neck, nibbling at his pulse point. “So perfect for me. Can you do one more thing?”

“Anything,” Timmy sighed.

“Go upstairs and get yourself ready for me.”

Timmy was so quick to scramble off the ottoman that he forgot to pull up his trunks, stumbling over them for a couple steps until he just kicked them off.

Armie chuckled. “One more thing.”

Timmy spun, blinking owlishly, looking betrayed.

Armie lifted his suit jacket from the barstool. “Hang this up for me.”

Timmy walked over and held out his hand for it, and as Armie passed it over, he grabbed Timmy’s jaw to pull him in for a kiss.

Breaking off with a nibble to Timmy’s luscious bottom lip, he said, “I’ll be right up. Don’t touch your cock.”

Timmy sucked his own bottom lip into his mouth, nodding as he spun on his heel and hurried off.

Armie watched him enter the door to the kitchen and sprint up the stairs before marching back to the french doors to his office, attitude flipping on a dime. No gentle dominance for this son of a bitch, and no more toleration of his elders for the sake of family harmony. Armie was done.

He threw open the door and the curtain in one quick move.

His associate stood, spinning on Armie. “Where do you get off--”

Armie charged, shoving his associate to the wall and pinning him there with a forearm to the neck. “You listen to me. This is not the thirties. You can’t just go--”

“I wasn’t even alive in the--”

Armie thrusted forward through his shoulders, cutting off his associate’s words. “Did I say you could talk?”

Armie raised his eyebrows at the man, whose face was quickly turning red from lack of oxygen. Finally, he shook his head.

Armie relented, though he still kept his associate pinned. “Good. You’re done here, and if you so much as think about making an example, I’ll make one of you.” He jabbed a single knuckle to his associate’s chest. “Slowly.”

At that, he grabbed his associate by the scruff of his neck and tossed him out into the hallway. “You know the way out,” he bit, slamming the door.

***

When Armie got to the bedroom, he found Timmy lying chest-first on the bed, butt thrust in the air, struggling to thrust two fingers into himself past the second knuckle. Smirking to himself, he crossed the room and eased Timmy’s fingers from his anus, warmth suffusing him at Timmy’s sigh. He kissed Timmy’s sacrum before swirling his tongue once around Timmy’s hole, smiling at the taste of Dial soap and lube.

He unbuttoned his shirt. “You could have used a toy for that.”

Timmy’s eyelids popped open, and he groaned, smearing his face against the covers.

Armie chuckled, grabbing Timmy by the thighs and yanking him over until Armie could stand between his knees at the edge of the bed, close enough for lube to get on his trousers. He let his hips sway. “I love that you’re so eager. I thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

Timmy shook his head and swallowed, resting his head on one cheek. “Never.”

Armie gave his ass a swat, though he bit the corner of his mouth to keep from grinning. “Did I say you could talk?”

Timmy pressed his lips together and touched them with his pointer finger.

Armie growled a laugh, squeezing Timmy’s hips. “God, I love you.”

Timmy skimmed his hands over the covers until they were above his head, bringing them together into the shape of a heart.

Kissing along Timmy’s spine, Armie pulled the shirt from his shoulders, imbibing the vibrations of Timmy’s low hums through lips and tongue and cheeks. And he didn’t stop as he worked his belt from his buckle and undid his trousers, staying close so his knuckles grazed and bumped against Timmy’s thighs with every movement.

Pushing his trousers and briefs down his own thighs, Armie settled most of his weight along Timmy, cock nestled against his thigh, chest molded to his back, lips by his ears. “Do you feel what you do to me?”

The fingers that had been shaped into a heart dug into the bedclothes as Timmy nodded.

“I had to end my meeting with a raging boner.” 

Timmy let out a rush of breath, tilting his ass against Armie’s groin.

“Oh, I know.” Armie chuckled into Timmy’s ear. “Good thing for you I don’t get off on humiliation the way you do, or I might have jizzed in my pants.”

Pushing off Timmy’s shoulders, Armie stood and stepped out of every item of clothing below the waist. Timmy rocked a bit on the bed but otherwise maintained his position, back swayed, arms above his head. From Armie’s position he could see all the best bits. Piqued nipples barely grazing the bedclothes. Cock and balls flushed and heavy. And asshole shining with lube. It was all Armie could do not to sink into his eager body right there, but that wasn’t what he had in mind.

Instead, he stacked a few pillows at the head of the bed and reclined against them before nudging Timmy with his foot. He cocked his head with a little wink. “Come here. Bring the lube with you.”

Timmy sat up, looking a little dazed as he searched the bed, trying to remember where he’d left the bottle. His hair was disheveled, falling into his eyes. After a moment, he spotted it, lunged for it, and crawled back up the bed to Armie’s side. He didn’t wait for instructions, just squeezed a dollop on his palm and dived right in, grabbing Armie’s cock and going for a kiss all at once.

Armie hissed at the unexpected contact, grabbing a fistful of curls to keep their mouths apart, though he couldn’t help the twitch in his hips. “You naughty thing. I didn’t tell you to do that.”

Timmy bit one side of his bottom lip, a wicked glint in his eye, and kept right on going.

Armie let him for just a moment. “Hands off.”

Timmy lifted both hands in surrender, dropping the lube, and before it could hit the bed, Armie had him by the right thigh and left hip, hauling him up and over so quickly that Timmy had to catch himself on Armie’s shoulders.

He pushed the hair from Timmy’s eyes before bracketing his face with both palms. He brought their lips together, soft and sweet, teasing Timmy with little sips and flicks of tongue before retreating, leaving Timmy in a constant push and pull against Armie’s hands. Odd, for the perfect little sub.

Grinning, Armie tugged Timmy’s bottom lip with his thumb. “I think you’re trying to get in trouble.”

Timmy opened his mouth enough for Armie’s thumb to rest comfortably on his tongue, face the image of one ready to submit. But down below, his hips wriggled, teasing his own hole with the head of Armie’s cock, and then he started to lower his weight.

_Oh, hell no._

Armie snatched both of Timmy’s wrists and yanked them behind Timmy’s back, clasping them both in one hand. “You little shit. You want to do it your way? Fine.” Armie flopped back against the pillows, though he kept his grip on Timmy. “I’ll just sit here until you finish.”

Timmy cocked his head and gave a little smirk, narrowing his eyelids at Armie.

“Try me,” Armie countered.

Timmy obviously thought he could break Armie’s resolve, circling his hips to tease at Armie’s glans, biting his bottom lip hard enough to turn the skin white near where the teeth dug in, and then releasing it to reveal and arced topography of red and purple. He threw his head back to reveal a long expanse of creamy flesh just begging to be marked, shook his curls to remind Armie how much he loved to pull them. But in the end, he did more damage to himself because it wasn’t long before he was panting, movements going erratic, little whines escaping in wordless begging to just thrust already. And Armie just watched.

Oh, he enjoyed the view. His cock throbbed at it, and there was no denying that he wanted to throw Timmy down on the bed and fuck him into oblivion. But he was also a man of his word. A patient man of his word.

Though, he also wasn’t above a bit of cheating, so he grabbed the base of his cock with his free hand, waited until he felt a bit of give, and pulled down on Timmy’s wrists. Gasping as Armie breached, Timmy stilled. His mouth popped open, and Armie could see his resolve shatter like a delicate teacup toppling from its saucer. He let the tension in his thighs slowly release and sank down with a long groan. He hunched on himself, bit his lip, squeezed his eyes shut, and slid his hips forward, tipping Armie’s glans against his prostate.

“Cheat--”

Armie covered Timmy’s mouth, murmuring, “No no no. No talking unless you want to stop.”

Timmy’s hips twitched. Breath gusted over the backs of Armie’s fingers as Timmy glared at him.

“Do you want to stop?”

Timmy shook his head.

“Good.” Armie dropped the hand on Timmy’s mouth and kept his grip on Timmy’s wrists. “Go on then.”

Timmy’s look was none too kind, but Armie just smirked. Timmy would thank him later, tired and sated from his hard-won orgasm. He’d lavish Armie in sleepy affection, curl against him for Armie to envelop. Still, Timmy tried to hold onto to the shards of his resolve. His hips twitched, keeping Armie pressed against his prostate, but only because his body wouldn’t let him stop, not in any effort to chase pleasure or orgasm.

Timmy was panting and grunting, eyes and lips pressed tightly closed as he fought the losing battle with his body, as his movements evolved from twitching to grinding. From grinding to rocking. From rocking to thrusting. And finally his mouth opened, drawing in deep panting breaths, throwing his head back as he leaned his weight against Armie’s hand. Armie bent his knees up to give him more support, shivering at the feeling of Timmy’s buttocks clenching and releasing, slapping against Armie’s upper thighs. His balls slid, sweaty and slick with excess lube, over the fur of Armie’s lower abdomen. His cock throbbed visibly with every thrust, curving towards his stomach as he strived for release.

Fuck, it was beautiful. Armie’s toes curled, bunching up the bedclothes, and he shook with the effort to hold on to Timmy. To hold onto his resolve.

Soon, Timmy’s grunts turned to whines, his look of pleasure into one of frustration, his fingernails scratching and digging into Armie’s inner thighs.

“Talk,” Armie panted. “Tell me what you need.”

“Help. I can’t-- Not on my own-- Fuck!”

Armie let go of Timmy’s wrists and grabbed his hips instead, stilling him. At the confused look he got, he offered his right palm. “Gimme some lube.”

Timmy snatched it off the bed and squeezed a generous dollop into Armie’s hand, who gathered up Timmy’s wrists as he slicked Timmy’s cock.

And then he held Timmy still in his fist. “This is the help you’re getting. Take it or leave it.”

Timmy was too gone to consider fighting, so he was thrusting into the tunnel of Armie’s fingers before Armie finished speaking, his movements going erratic mere moments later.

“Tighter,” he begged, and Armie complied, lube squelching out between his fingers.

Timmy shook, mouth agape, eyes closed, panting. “I’m gonna-- I’m gonna c--”

In one swift motion, Armie let go of Timmy’s wrists, bracketed his forearm on the small of Timmy’s back, and bit his areola, sucking, flicking his tongue against the nipple. Timmy clasped Armie’s shoulders holding on for dear life as he spilled over Armie’s chest, riding through a number of spurts only possible with a good prostate orgasm. _You’re welcome, Timmy._

Finally, Timmy relaxed, flopping back against Armie’s arm with a long sigh. Smiling, Armie helped him down to his back, pulling out in the process, until Armie was on hands and knees above him.

He grasped himself in his slick right hand, growling in Timmy’s ear, “Lick it off.”

Sleepily, Timmy rose to his elbows, licking lusciously at each stripe of semen, more like long, languorous kisses, really, more lips and suction than tongue.

Armie wanted to wait until Timmy got every bit cleaned before coming, but it just felt too damned good. Cursing, Armie came on the hollow of Timmy’s stomach and rolled onto his back with a sigh.

Timmy curled to Armie’s side, draped over him as he finished licking Armie clean. And Armie let him, carding his fingers through Timmy’s hair, grazing them over his back, not caring about his own come now smearing over his hip and thigh.

“I love you,” he sighed to the ceiling, squeezing Timmy’s shoulder.

Timmy turned his head to rest his cheek on Armie’s stomach, and Armie peeked down to find him smiling, sleepy, sated. “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and many thanks to dreamofhorses and iamjohnlocked4life for betaing!
> 
> A little disclaimer since this is my first fic in this fandom: I love and appreciate comments on my fics so so so so so so so so so much, but I don't reply. I can't really explain why, but I find it overwhelming and stressful. So, if you leave a comment and don't get a reply, please don't take it personally.
> 
> If you'd like to talk to me, you can find me as justacookieofacumberbatch on tumblr or cookieofabatch on twitter.


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